


Thermodynamics

by penandpaper



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cockblocking Mycroft, Established Relationship, F/M, One Shot, Post TFP, Secret Relationship, it's still new but they're having fun with it, silly sexy and sad, sorta d/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9387965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penandpaper/pseuds/penandpaper
Summary: When Sherlock buys a new table that leaves impressions of heat signatures, he wants to test it out with Molly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ***This is my first time publishing fic, so please be gentle with me. I usually write in first person too, so this was new to me.
> 
> Thanks to StrawberryPatty who reblogged the image of the table that gave me this idea, as well as for requesting more sexy post-TFP fics.
> 
> You can see the table here: https://maderadearquitecto.tumblr.com/post/78201427829/thermochromic-table

He told Molly he bought the table for an experiment on thermodynamics. 

In a way, that was true.

When it was delivered to 221B, it was set up in the kitchen where the previous table had been cleared of the usual variety of testing equipment, chemicals, and the occasional half-finished cup of tea. That table was currently occupying what was formerly John’s bedroom. He wasn’t using it anymore and Sherlock had _much_ more interesting plans for the table he had just purchased.

The first thing Molly did when the deliverymen left was to place her hand on the cool, black table. She applied pressure on it in order to give off more heat. Sure enough, when she lifted her hand she could see a handprint that went clear through the black paint to the lightly colored wood beneath. Sherlock came behind her then, snaking his left arm around her waist and taking her hand in his free one to lower it back down on the table. 

He leaned into her, his body pressing against hers and subtly forcing her to bend over where their hands rested on the table.

“I must confess, Miss Hooper,” Sherlock began, lips grazing Molly’s left ear with each word. She worked very hard not to tremble. “I had a _particular_ intention for the purchase of this table.”

“And what might that be?” she challenged, hooking her pinky over his.

There was a vibration in his chest that Molly could feel on her back from how close they were now. It almost sounded like a growl.

It thrilled her.

“Clothes off,” was his answer, which he commanded lowly before withdrawing from her. She instantly began to remove her clothing, already feeling flushed and excited for whatever Sherlock had in mind. He’d planned this. In advance. For her.

She struggled momentarily to get out of her jumper. She’d worn too many layers, but it had been cold out and they had never done anything in 221B, so she wasn’t exactly expecting anything like this. When they were physical, it was always at her house for fear of being walked in on. Not that they were exactly keeping it a secret, it was just that they both wanted a bit of privacy after everything it took to finally get here.

He clearly wasn’t afraid now.

Sherlock’s confidence mixed with her own hesitation that they could be caught in a way that only made her feel even more aroused as she slid her knickers off and kicked them to the side where they slid somewhere towards the stove. Molly looked up at him then, completely nude and awaiting further instruction. She trusted him completely; he could see that in her large brown eyes when she attempted to keep from smiling. 

Sometimes her trust in him terrified Sherlock. He’d messed this up before and was ever afraid of doing it again. But those three words had changed everything for them. No matter what events led to the words being said, the realization that they were true was what fueled Sherlock to do whatever it took to fix things with her as soon as he’d gotten back to London. Now here they were, several weeks later. 

Molly stood before him, bare and _ready_.

Sherlock reached behind her head to pull at the band that held her hair together in that consistent ponytail. It was completely appropriate for her position at Bart's, as well as any regular experiments that involved insuring that the subject would not be contaminated by her loose strands. But Sherlock loved her hair. He loved how soft it was, how it smelled of her and home, which had become one and the same thing as of late. He loved how it cascaded over her shoulders and had lately grown to almost graze her small, but pert, breasts. He loved how there was just a hint of red in it when the sun rested _just so_ over her head.

There were many ways in which Sherlock loved things about Molly Hooper. He was looking at her tenderly now as he thought about it, and she couldn’t help but relax underneath that gaze. The smile she had fought before now became apparent and a bit shy. 

He smiled back at her, fiendishly. “On the table, Miss Hooper. Laying down.”

“Yes, sir.”

Molly hopped onto the table, confident in its sturdiness. Sherlock never would have purchased something for this specific reason without being certain it wouldn’t collapse under the weight of both of them, let alone just herself. She leaned back until she was flat on the table. It was cold against her flushed skin causing her to shudder against it. Her nipples hardened and she suddenly became aware at how bright the room was. She was completely exposed. Based on the dark glint in Sherlock’s eyes, that was exactly how he wanted her.

Her breath caught in her throat as he began trailing his fingertips along her frame. He started with her right foot which twitched slightly at the ticklish touch as it slid up her shin, to her knee, up her thigh…

She swallowed hard and focused on her breathing. It sometimes was difficult for her not to be overstimulated by the lightest of touches from him. He recognized what she was doing and used more fingers and slightly more pressure as he explored her body. She felt her heart rate begin to slow down to a less erratic beat, though the fierce pounding was unrelenting, as it always was where Sherlock was concerned. The heat in her body made her seek the coolness of the untouched areas of the table. Molly moved underneath his caressing touch only to be met with a sharp slap against the fleshier part of her hip, making her still instantly.

“You were not given permission to move,” Sherlock reminded her, his face stern though his eyes were still warm. Reassuring. He was always really good about letting her know he wasn’t actually upset with her, that they were just playing, without ruining the moment by saying so.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said quietly. She was completely submissive now, eyes closed and just feeling him. 

One of his hands reached for her hair. His fingers ran through her scalp, lightly scratching in a way that made her tingle. The other hand was busy tracing the shape of her breast from the farthest part, slowly rising up the small mound in a trail of circles before settling just outside her erect nipple. The hand in her hair lowered so that he could graze the side of her face with his thumb. Her eyes opened then and met his, holding their gaze as he finally put her breast in his mouth, nipple between his maddeningly perfect teeth. His tongue flicked at the end of it and she struggled not to squirm again. Instead a low moan rattled deep in her throat. He smirked at her efforts to be both still and quiet as he worked her into a frenzy.

There was a pulse between her legs that made her aware how wet she was becoming. Sherlock must have noticed as well because he removed his hands from her hair and breasts in favor for her hips. Molly took a shaky breath when his mouth released her nipple to instead place soft kisses down her ribs, past her stomach…

Heavy footfalls from the stairwell made the two of them freeze at the exact same time.

“Sherlock!” Mycroft shouted his name as he slowly made his way up the steps. Each word got progressively louder and more put-out as he ascended. “You haven’t been answering your texts and mummy is not in the mood to be ignored. Nor am I, in fact.”

Molly scrambled to get off the table and run into the bedroom to avoid being caught naked by Mycroft bloody Holmes. Sherlock nodded to her and closed the door behind her as he adjusted himself in an attempt to appear, well, not like he’d been ready to perform oral sex on his pathologist and girlfriend on his brand new table that just happened to be in the kitchen. His eyes fell on the table and widened. A perfect outline of Molly’s body was imprinted on the table now, complete with spread fingers where she’d tried to keep her body perfectly still for him.

It was a beautiful sight.

Though, not one he intended to share with his brother.

Sherlock thought about sitting in his chair and using some sort of prop to hide his continued, though somewhat diminished, erection. Instead he opted for leaning against the doorframe of his flat in the hopes of keeping Mycroft from seeing the table and Molly’s lovely, but suggestive, silhouette. His posture was lax, if not curled forward slightly in order to get his blue houserobe to drape over his frame more.

Of course it was all for naught, because the moment Mycroft looked up to see Sherlock standing there more awkwardly than he’d seen him in years, he knew. He raised an eyebrow. “Your landlady must not be here, so I let myself in.”

“I can see that,” Sherlock said through clenched teeth. “Mrs. Hudson is on holiday. Florida or something.”

“Well, if you had simply texted one of us back, brother mine, mummy would not have bullied me into coming here myself.” Mycroft glanced past him, but of course there was nothing to see from just the entrance. “It would have saved me the trip and you the embarrassment.”

“What have I to be embarrassed about?”

Mycroft simply pushed past him, decidedly ignoring the tent his little brother was sporting. 

“Whatever, or whomever, you have in this lovely little flat to keep you company.” He looked back at Sherlock then, who seemed close to rage but Mycroft knew he was mostly peacocking. The laptop that was in his chair did not belong to him. It was an older Macbook, but well taken care of. Sherlock had only ever used John’s computer and had thus never acquired one of his own. If he had it would have been the newest model available and would already have been damaged from abuse. Mycroft had also already taken note, by size and fit, that the coat and scarf on the rack downstairs was meant for a female. Simple, even if the scarf wasn’t an exceptionally bright shade of pink. “Been lonely without John here, eh?”

Sherlock said nothing in response but merely moved past his brother to block him from the kitchen. “Not your concern, _brother mine_.” He mimicked the sentiment back at Mycroft in a mocking tone.

The elder Holmes huffed and shook his head. “I grow bored of this, Sherlock. I simply need to know that you will meet with mummy, daddy, and myself to further discuss their meeting with Eurus.” For the first time, Sherlock took notice at how tired his brother actually appeared. “I’ve done my best to make the appropriate requests go through so that they can see her, but it’s a lot of red tape and our parents are very much not happy with me right now.”

Molly was listening through Sherlock’s bedroom door. She could hear the muffled conversation going on between brothers as she worked to silently dress herself. It suddenly made her sad that Sherlock’s family had become so fractured. Granted, her own was practically non-existent, but this seemed even sadder somehow.

She could hear the difference in Sherlock’s voice when he spoke again. “I will be there.” His words were low, but honest. Molly had figured out long ago when he’d been lying. This was as much a truth and a promise as the first _I love you_ he’d said to her when he’d returned from that god forsaken island.

In the sitting room, Mycroft nodded, taking the opportunity at Sherlock’s sincerity to take one quick look past him and into the kitchen. There, on the kitchen table, he saw the faint outline of one Doctor Molly Hooper. Unmistakable from her established height and weight, having not only met her in person on more than one occasion but also from the unfortunate fit of the coffin from his sister that had supposedly been meant for her. 

Knowing how sensitive Sherlock was about this particular subject, and not particularly in the mood to end up like that coffin had, he said nothing and began to walk towards the main door.

Sherlock stayed in the same spot, apparently too lost in his own thoughts to notice his brother’s observations. Molly ventured out of the bedroom when she heard the top stairs begin to creak with the weight as Mycroft went down them.

“Oh! And by the way,” he began as he descended, unable to resist. “Do tell Doctor Hooper that mummy would be delighted to meet her. And that she should be sure not to lose her knickers underneath that stove. Heaven only knows what’s growing under there.”

Sherlock turned to look uneasily at Molly and was pleasantly surprised to see that she was laughing. Big laughs that shook her frame, so unlike her self-assuring giggles when she made one of her bad jokes. It made him smile fondly at her, relief that she wasn't upset washed over him. Seeing this she walked over to him, laughter subsiding but still bubbling up a bit, and grabbed the sides of his robe to pull him closer. “Well, I suppose that’s it then. If Mycroft knows, we may as well tell everyone else.”

He groaned at that, but leaned forward to rest his forehead on hers. “I suppose we should. After all, I’d much rather _them_ know than _him_ in the first place.”

Molly tilted her head back to kiss him on the forehead. He closed his eyes and smiled peacefully. 

She liked seeing him that way.

“Hmm. Well, we could wait another hour or two,” she said suggestively, pulling on his robes again. This time towards the bedroom.

“I like the way you think, Molly.”

“That’s Miss Hooper to you, Sherlock Holmes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Personally I prefer Sherlock as more of a sub and Molly as more of a dom, but for the specific purpose of what I was going for here, I felt the reverse would serve this story better.
> 
> I hoped you liked it! Please leave a review to let me know what you think.


End file.
